I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

I’m shutting the whole world out, but I’m also waiting to be rescued
Here’s Valentine’s Day music for lonely folks with nobody to love
GOP hypocrisy: It’s only ‘pork’ when federal spending is in other districts
We often don’t see who loves us until it’s too late to be an option
How did memory get it wrong? Why did I edit truth about her?
When does healthy love become nothing but unhealthy obsession?
We can’t agree what intelligence is, but it defines some of us
Why do we accept ‘one size fits all’ rules that force us to fight each other?
We can’t trade away gun rights and believe it’ll give kids perfect safety